The Internet masses have taken a single line from a newspaper story about Roof's arrest and blown it all out of proportion.

In Shelby, the FBI handled Roof’s initial questioning, Ledford said. Shelby police’s lone conversation with the mass-murder suspect was about food. Earlier in the day, Roof had bought water and chips at a south Charlotte gas station. Now he was hungry. Police bought him food from a nearby Burger King, Ledford said.
“He was very quiet, very calm. He didn’t talk,” Ledford said. “He sat down here very quietly. He was not problematic.”

And on this story on New York Magazine's website, someone commented: "This is disgusting. It's not the fact that he was fed, it's what they gave him. Burger King is a treat! Someone who just murdered nine people does not deserve a treat. Give him a slice of bread and a piece of bologna."

Thanks to the Internet, we are all experts. And all stupid.

But had any of those commenters done a little research, they might have discovered that buying some fast food for those arrested for even the most heinous of crimes is not unusual.

RECIPE FOR A CONFESSION: TWO ALL-BEEF PATTIES . . .
Miami Herald
March 24, 1996
MANNY GARCIA, Herald Staff Writer
Edition: FINAL
Section: FRONT
Page: 1A
First came the lie detector test. Now comes the "Truth Whopper."
In Dade County, more and more detectives are learning that fast food helps them solve robberies, burglaries, even murders.
"The quickest way to a confession is through a man's stomach," said Kent Hart, a Hialeah homicide detective.
Nauseated by the prospect of jailhouse cuisine, defendants are trading confessions for one last Big Mac, chicken sandwich, pizza or Whopper -- which detectives countywide swear is the meal that reels in the most confessions.
"We should open an account at Burger King," Hart said. "Every time we walk in, they ask, 'Are you taking confessions tonight?' "
The public saw the payoff of feeding a suspect during the Jimmy Ryce investigation. Metro-Dade cops made sure that Juan Carlos Chavez regularly ate during more than 50 hours of questioning before he allegedly confessed to the killing.

"If I ate, he ate," said Pat Diaz, the lead investigator in the Ryce case.

"The name of the game now is feed them and schmooze them," said David Waksman, a Dade prosecutor and former Bronx beat cop. "If you keep a guy in custody and he is hungry and you don't feed him, you have deprived him of his rights, and that is illegal."
Police, at the request of prosecutors, routinely write down everything they feed defendants. Sometimes they corroborate it with a photograph.
After Charles Pitts asked robbery detectives for a Wendy's double cheeseburger, they snapped a Polaroid.
The Chavez and Pitts cases are but one example. Court records and police files show heaps of fast-food-induced confessions. "Our trade secret," Metro robbery detective Steve Brajdic said.
Among those who have succumbed to the hamburger: Gerardo Plaza.
"Buy me a Whopper," Hialeah police said he told them after his arrest in February 1995.
Detectives Hart and Bassam Fadel bought him a Whopper combo meal, which includes fries and a Coke. Between bites, Plaza allegedly confessed to a liquor store robbery and murder.
"Well, you got your Whopper's worth," Plaza reportedly said, purposely omitting the ending of the story, so he could add, "I'm really hungry. Buy me a cheese steak."

So take a chill pill, Internet...and then go back to watching your cat videos.